Retribution
by Silindro
Summary: Grief is hard to deal with, and something that Logan just can't do. Marie would be there for him, but she's got someone in her head that just won't leave them alone.


Standard disclaimers apply.

A/n:  This fic is quite the angsty bitch.  You have been forewarned.  Enjoy!

~~--~~*~~--~~ Retribution ~~--~~*~~--~~

Standing by the window, Logan held his tumbler tightly in his hand, afraid that if he dropped it, his life would shatter just like the glass.  It was on days like these that he knew he was close to his breaking point.  But unlike most people who took a deadly jump over the edge, he merely thought about a padded room, the walls underlined with adamantium to keep him safe.  Or to keep everyone else safe, but he couldn't be sure.

 There was no such thing as death for the troubled soul, only insanity and a promise that he would be the one that lasted until the end.  The only problem was that his end had already come, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

Taking a sip from the glass, he rested his head against the cool surface of the window.  It was winter and the snow had already come and covered everything in sight.  It was beautiful, he knew, but he didn't take the time to appreciate it.  There were more important things he could think of than beauty.  

Like monkeys, or paper, or the color sienna.

Sighing heavily, he threw the rest of the amber liquid back down his throat and set the empty glass on a table nearby.  It didn't matter if Jean, or 'Ro, or Chuck came to scold him about leaving his liquor glasses all over the place.  He just didn't care about anything anymore.

Some of the passing students in the hallways gave him placating looks as they walked by, but nothing that they tried made him feel any better about his situation.  The only thing any of them could ever do would be to rip his heart out of his chest and shove it on a silver platter to be served to Marie at dinner.

Marie.

Closing his eyes, he imagined the dark-haired beauty as she writhed under him in passion, her eyes half-lidded in desire, and her voice hot and heavy in his ear.  The memories were always strong when he thought of her.  

Leaving his window, he walked down the hallway to Jean's private library where he knew he would find her.  She always spent her time in there when she needed to clear her mind.  The only problem was that it never worked.  Her mind was always crowded.

Knocking softly on the closed door, he opened it and walked in, looking around for her small, fragile form.  He found it sitting in Scott's favorite chair by the fire, staring into the flames as if all of life's answers could be told by the dancing and flickering of the colors.

"Marie?"

Logan stood in the doorway, waiting for a response from the one person that was doing their damnedest to ignore him.  It was quite nerve-wracking, but he had dealt with this kind of treatment from his former lover for a year now.  There was no hurt inside when he got no answer, only a feeling of loss.

Turning, he was about to shut the door.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"

Logan turned around and regarded Marie, his eyes raking over her face.  There was no sign of her there.  "It's the only hope I have left," he replied gruffly.

"You think there's hope?" she laughed.  "There's nothing left for you anymore, Logan.  No one wants you."

"It isn't about want, it's about need."

"And _I_ don't need you."

Tears brimming in his eyes, Logan turned and left the library, his wounded soul taking a final blow.  He ran into Jean just outside of the door.  She put a hand on his arm, the tears brimming in her own eyes.  She had lost just as much as he.

"It's over," Logan said quietly.  "I'm goin'."

Nodding, Jean let Logan walk away from everything that he had once cherished before entering the sullen room to hear things for herself.  Not that she didn't already know what she would hear.  She was sure that Logan had summed it up for her by leaving.

Walking in the room, she went to the chair where Marie sat and kneeled down before her, looking into her eyes.  Looking for any sign of humanity.  But it was a futile attempt.

"What are you doing, Jeannie?" Marie asked.

"Looking for the real person inside," she replied helplessly.  "But I can't seem to find her."

"You were always looking for something, weren't you?"

"Scott, I don't blame you for what happened.  But why do you keep doing this to them?"

"It's only fair that they're made to suffer," he spat bitterly.

"She was only protecting him."

"She took my life, Jeannie.  Sucked my soul right out of my body and put it in here," he said while tapping Marie's temple.  

"You tried to kill him," she said, thinking of the awful night that Logan had gone one step too far in his taunting of Scott.

"It was no less than he deserved!" Scott yelled.

"No one deserves death," she said softly.  "But it catches all of us in the end."

"Some sooner than others apparently."

Jean stood up and walked to the door, pausing.  She turned back to Marie and said with biting agony, "You're hurting more than just Logan and Marie.  You're hurting me as well."

Looking back into the flames, Marie cried out inside of her own head.

~~--~~*~~--~~

You see the little purple button down there?  It begs to be pushed.  And I beg to be reviewed.  


End file.
